The Basketball that Yukine Plays
by MiserableFairy13
Summary: Being the sister of a recently deceased, infamous delinquent sucks sometimes. Especially when her legacy gets you into A TON of trouble! Luckily, Yukine Chisari is able to bypass the expectations of her and still succeed...even when she has schoolwork, student council duties, and being the manager of the basketball team on her plate. Pairing to still be determined as of yet...


I wasn't required to join a club, officially. But I knew it was expected of me. And if I didn't join, then I'd end up damaging my reputation. In a school where status and appearances mattered more than academics or friendships, reputation was very important.

So when my friend showed me the flyer for the Art Club, I knew she was in for it, big time. I had tried protesting, insisting that I'd be better suited to a competition-based club, like the Science Olympiad team or the Debate team.

But Yukise, being Yukise, had refused and giggled cutely (read: like a druggie), shoving the heavy stack of paper into my arms and beaming, her eyes projecting the threat _If you dare make a scene, I will end you_.

Well, I didn't make a scene. Heaving a sigh, I skimmed each sheet briefly and carefully. "So...we get to design the sports' clubs uniforms, huh? Is THAT the real reason you wanted to join?"

The curtain had been raised. There was no need for Yukise to act anymore. Falling into her serious mode, she said, "You don't understaaaand, Kine-chi~ They're just so charming! Plus, we get to see guys stretch!"

I sighed. "You know, I have never gotten why you're so obsessed with sports, since you hate exercise. Remember this summer, when that boy confessed to me? You said no on my behalf, just because you didn't think he was athletic enough!"

She snorted. "Hey, I like guys, and I like art. Seems like a good deal, am I right?" No, she was dead wrong. Or at least, in my opinion back then.

"There is no cure for hopeless romantics like you. Why not join the Journalism Club instead? If you like watching guys stretch, then you can just do that! Plus, it looks good on your resume."

"Hey, what's a resume again? Sorry, wasn't paying attention in those classes you forced me to take this summer."

This time, I flushed. "Hey, they were obligatory. I don't know why all those kids showed up after the second lesson."

She giggled again. "It's because you were there. I mean, you're practically the queen! They all admire your intelligence and your...well, I guess they admire your looks, but seriously, you'd look better if you'd only smile a teensey bit more!"

Unbeknownst to both of us, our entire conversation had been overheard. A delinquent boy smiled nostalgically from the back of the auditorium. "So," he drawled, "Yukine Chisari. Sister of...Chika Chisari. This day has just gotten better."

Let me backpedal for you. So, I was the sister of the infamous Chika Chisari, who had dated practically the entire school, done drugs, kissed and groped girls and boys by force and by consent, drank alcohol, went out clubbing, owned a firearm, had quite a few tattoos and piercings, and the last one on the last...committed suicide in a fit of euphoric despair.

All in middle school. Yes, my sister was very accomplished. She overshadowed me greatly. Everyone I met seemed to be focused on who I was related to, and not me as a person.

Which I hated. And all the authentically attractive boys I met had already, in some way, been associated with my older sister. So my hopes of dating anyone from the city were dashed. All they could talk about was how hot she was, and how cool she'd been. She had kissed literally every single guy in the school.

Except for one boy. Shuzo Nijimura. He must have ninja-like skills to have been able to avoid Chika. She was really sneaky like that. She'd unhook her bra and throw it out the window, trip over her finger while bending over, pretend to check her messages and secretly send someone to distract her target while they thought it was safe... The gymnastics she could do were astonishing.

Secretly, I wondered if Mr. Ninja was gay, perhaps. That was the ONLY way that you could stop Chika, because she accepted that people wanted to date and associate with people other than her.

Almost nobody didn't want to associate with her. Everyone was always on about her wild keg parties or her new piercing.

But really. I had loved my wayward sister, and still do, and I could never hate her. Not in a thousand years. Not even when she was in her grave. Not even when the mere mention of my sister's name lost me the hard-earned respect that I had managed from the teachers. Not even when I was alone on the bus everyday.

That was my secret, and I sure as hell wasn't going to be giving it up for some random-ass guy. Especially not when my entire grade level seemed to be preoccupied girls or pompous douches.

_Perhaps _I was lonely. _Maybe _I would never be okay again as long as my sister's memory still haunted my dreams. _Quite possibly_, I wouldn't make a single friend this year, just like last year. _It was within the realms of imagination _that my only comfort would be my relentlessly good grades.

My twisted mind needed a break, so I turned to the boy sitting next to me, and whispered, "There's vanilla on your cheek."

He shifted. "Ah, sorry. I did not mean to bother Yukine Chisari. My name is Kuroko Tetsuya. If it helps you, I'll wipe it off..." Geez. So polite! And distant.

It was now or never. I decided to test him. "Sorry, Tetsuya-san, but have you ever heard the name Chika Chisari?"

He nodded. "I have. She was rumored to be a famous delinquent who went to Teiko. Is Chisari-san associated with her in any manner?"

I nodded. "She was my late sister." That was a bombshell - or at least I thought it was. I couldn't really tell, what with the show-no-emotion thing going on with Kuroko's face.

There was now an awkward silence before he spoke up again. "That does not change things. It's still possible for us to be friends. I don't see why you brought it up, however..."

The rest of my quality time with my new friend was pretty much spent like that. But at least I had a new one.

Kuroko Tetsuya. The name felt smooth on my mouth, like peanut butter. I tested it out. It looked like I had made a new friend after all.

* * *

><p>The rest of my day was spent in comfortable silence with Yukise, only bumping into Kuroko in my gym class. "Oh, well," I had said, mustering up as much cheer as possible, "I guess this is the only class I have with you."<p>

After a suitable pause, he continued the conversation. "You are quite mistaken, Chisari-san. I am in all of your classes. You just sit in front of me."

THAT was certainly embarrassing. Heading off to speak to my wayward best friend, I was surprised when she hollered out to me instead of having me just walk over there. "HEY! KINE-CHI~ Look over here!" I indeed looked her way, only to freeze up. The boy I was making eye contact with was none other than the ninja, Shuzo Nijimura.

I couldn't help myself. Should I go talk to them and risk being embarrassed, or should I hide behind Kuroko for protection and slowly make my way over there? I opted for the latter.

When we arrived at the spot, Yukise was looking surprisingly flustered, her dyed platinum blonde hair flying everywhere as she giggled and...was she _seriously _blushing?

Just then, I realized something. I was practically the more cutesy-looking version of Chika. It would be difficult to hide my identity well.

So, how do I look? And how did Chika look? Surprisingly, my older sister didn't dye her hair like the ganguro girls she associated with. She wore it long, all the way down to her waist. Just like I did, except my hair hung straighter and was shorter, while hers was a bit curly. When she was actually in a yukata and not scowling, she looked pleasant, an atypical traditional beauty. We both had very dark brown, but not quite black, hair, with light eyes. However, whereas her face was harder, tougher, my face was soft.

Unfortunately, we were both easily recognized as sisters. And as Mr. Ninja appraised my face, I had a feeling that he knew who I was. Well, that of course wasn't a problem.

What he said next, nobody was expecting. "You're pretty." Yukise frowned. "But you look weak, like you've never done a sport before. You look like one of those ditzy girls. You probably shouldn't be in this gym class; it's for more...serious athletes."

Okay, now Yukise was seriously angry. She was screaming at him. "Hey! Don't insult her, you have no right! How would YOU know if she's never done a sport? You don't! YOU DON'T! And you've never seen her in class; how would you know that she's a ditz? She's not!" Then, she threw her drink at him.

The sight of the basketball captain drenched in coffee made Kuroko laugh. It was short, soft, and pleasant. That was the first time Nijimura took notice of him. "Oi, stop laughing, brat. You wanted to join the basketball team, huh? Well, let me tell you something: I'm the captain."

Then, he turned to Yukise. "Hey, you joining the basketball team?"

She was blushing, but was also confused. "No, I'm a girl. And you guys only have...a...male...basketball...team?"

He smirked. "Ah, you're a girl? Didn't notice, what with the screaming and the throwing of drinks..." SLAP! My hand collided with his cheek, leaving a red mark.

Before it could turn into a full-out fight, Kuroko interrupted all of us. "Nijimura-san, I do not think it is appropriate for you to call Chisari-san a ditz and her friend a male."

I froze. No. Kuroko couldn't have. Mr. Ninja raised an eyebrow. "Chisari-san? So your full name is Yukine Chisari, eh? I'm sorry, then, didn't recognize you. Do you want to be the manager of the basketball team?"

We all just stopped and stared at him like he was smoking pot in public. He raised his eyebrow again. "What? Your sister Chika was, I seem to remember, the manager of the basketball team. It would only be right for you to be the current one."

Yukise was angry again. "HEY, DOUCHEBAG! JUST A SECOND AGO YOU WERE CALLING HER A DITZ! WHO'S THE RIGHT ONE NOW, HUH!? HUH!?" Heavenly, saintly Kuroko patted her on the back, trying to calm her down.

No idea what possessed me to say it, but I nodded to Nijimura's offer. "Sure, I guess. When do practices start?" He threw me a bundle of paperwork.

"You have to fill this out first. Practices start tomorrow, with the testing of all the applicants." I face-palmed. This was even more paper than the Art Club!

My demonic best friend whispered to me loudly, "Great! Now I don't have to join the Art Club, because I can just attend all the practices saying I'm there to support you!"


End file.
